When the Swan Sings
by Clementine Mack
Summary: Cho Chang decides to carry out her vengeance for the deaths of her loved ones by infiltrating the Death Eater's ranks and destroying them from within. But as she mingles with monsters she must be careful not to become one herself. (DE!Cho Chang)


**Summary:** Cho Chang decides to carry out her vengeance for the deaths of her loved ones by infiltrating the Death Eater's ranks and destroying them from within. But as she mingles with monsters she must be careful not to become one herself. 

**Author's Note:**

A couple things. I took liberty with Cho's family background being that I had to make a choice based on her name, "Cho" while typically is a Korean name, Chang (or Zhang) however is more commonly a Chinese surname. I decided to go with her family's origin being Chinese and as such you will see elements in this story emphasizing that. 

Secondly, It's always a gamble to write a fic not centered on Hermione as to whether anyone will read it. It's even more riskier not to declare a pairing outright. That's almost like a major fanfic faux pas right there. But here's the thing that readers of my works should realize: I rarely write with a pairing in mind, I simply let the character relationships unfold as the story progresses. Doesn't mean there won't be elements of romance however it does mean this fic isn't about Cho Chang finding her "Happily Ever After". Alright? Alright.

 **Chapter One**

"I don't think it is a good idea, Chang," Neville said, he scratched his beard, a habit he had picked up whenever he was mulling over a particularly challenging idea. Although Neville told the others in their group, Cho knew the reason for the facial hair was solely to hide the large scar across his jawline. A battle scar so he never forgot how close he had brushed with death. In truth, every one of them had their own share of battle scars. Some were plain to see, others kept hidden. Neville had become the de facto leader of the Order of the Phoenix when no one else would claim the heavy mantle.

"We can't afford to lose you," someone else added and there was a murmur of agreement among the group.

Cho Chang was twenty-three-years-old but the signs of youth had faded from her eyes long before stood in front of the Order members. Or at least what remained of them. The war had taken a toll on their numbers, particularly at the grave losses accrued during the Battle of Hogwarts. No one needed to be reminded of the sacrifices that had been made already the names of loved ones were still firmly burned into their memories.

Despite their reluctance the present group knew the truth. She was only candidate for the mission no one else wanted to take. She had the pureblood pedigree that the Death Eaters coveted and a pleasant demeanor that had helped her evade their earlier attention. Cho had spent the last several years studying as a mediwitch's apprentice, an occupation that afforded her both a respectable cover as well as useful skills for the Order. Her apprenticeship done, she simply needed to sit for her exams and wait.

"What choice do we have? Inaction is going to simply get us all killed," Cho said plainly, waving to other witches and wizards huddled around the table. Her voice was steady when she spoke, free of the softness that once marked her as an agreeable and carefree young woman.

That person had died somewhere between the casualties of all her friends.

"But this is suicide, my girl," Molly Weasley said with the threat of tears in her eyes. The Weasely matriarch felt a pang of protectiveness for Cho as she did for all the younger Order members. Having lost several of her own children in the war Molly could not risk seeing another one fall.

"It _is_ dangerous," Cho said. "But I have a plan." 

_Shape without form, shade without colour,_

 _Paralysed force, gesture without motion,._

Cho recited the words in her head as she walked down the lonely London streets. It came from a Muggle poem she had read once and the words had stuck with her through the dark days of her young adulthood. It was dusk now and the lanterns sprang to life each step she took to her destination. With anti-apparation wards in place and the floo network heavily monitored walking was the only way to travel these days with relative inconspicuousness. 

_This is the dead land_

 _This is cactus land_

 _Here the stone images_

 _Are raised, here they receive_

 _The supplication of a dead man's hand_

 _Under the twinkle of a fading star._

It was strange and perhaps morbid for her to draw such comfort from the words but for Cho it made her feel as though somehow the poet understood what she was feeling in the moment. London, even now with its glowing lights, felt more like her very own dead land. Cho could only hear the clicking of her heels on the cobblestones and the steady inhale and exhale of her breath but internally her mind was buzzing.

She finished reciting the words just as she arrived at her destination, a nondescript tavern tucked behind a hidden alleyway. There were only one kind of people who ever ventured through its doors: those that did not want to be seen by anyone least of all the Augurey. They were Voldemort's legitimized enforcers, a glorified hit squad backed by the Ministry and lead by Death Eaters. _All in the name of keeping our beautiful country safe from those who would take what we have_ , the words of the now-minister Umbridge echoed in her mind as clearly as they day they had been broadcasted. 

_This is the way the world ends_

 _This is the way the world ends_  
 _This is the way the world ends_

 _Not with a bang but a whimper._

That was exactly how their world had ended that fateful day. When Cho closed her eyes she still smelled the smoke and dust of the battle. No one cried out when Harry's body crumbled, they all had watched in stunned disbelief even as his glasses cracked against the earth.

The Boy Who Lived surely couldn't die. Not like this.

Even now Cho knew some members of the Order held out that it had all been a ploy. That somehow Harry Potter would return to them and save the day. However the truth was simple: she needed to take her fate into her own hands. There was not going to be a storybook hero to rescue her or what remained of her loved ones. She needed to brandish her own armor to fight the dragon. Which was how she found herself compelled to do the unthinkable: to take down monsters by joining them.

She was going to earn their trust and destroy them from within. On a grand scale if she succeeded Cho knew this could topple Voldemort's regime but on personal level she hoped to take back a little of what they had stolen from her.

Voldemort had masterminded his control in the most subtle ways after the Battle of Hogwarts. With a ministry secured and carrying out activities as normal no one seemed too bothered by the quiet changes: borders were secured for the safety of citizens, curfews enforced by a squad of dementors to keep the streets safe of crime. No one even seemed to be bothered by the coincidence that less and less Muggleborns were being accepted to Hogwarts either.

No one seemed bothered by much of anything. _At least on the surface_ , Cho thought to herself. Dissent of any kind was discredited by every major news outlet along with the ministry and Cho knew secretly those who were caught criticizing the government almost always disappeared in some sort of "accident".

This was how her world had ended. _Not with a bang but a whimper._

Inside the tavern she spotted immediately the person she had come to see. The old man was small, his liver-spotted hands cradling a pint of beer while he scowled at any patron that looked his way.

"Hello Mr. M," Cho said as she sat down in the booth opposite of him. In a husher tone she added, "I think this disguise is a good look for you, Malfoy."

Draco Malfoy snorted as he discretely handed her a small cotton bag that had been charmed to carry much more than it appeared to. She knew inside there was a month's worth of polyjuice, enough for the Order's spies to maneuver safely within the city. Draco had joined their cause officially shortly after the Battle of Hogwarts when he had truly come to terms with what evil had been unleashed in the world. He did his part, as a Potion's Master, by providing aid and information when he could but only Cho knew of his identity.

 _I will leave the heroics to your lot,_ Draco had said many times before. Whether he wished to avoid credit for his efforts or lessen his risks Cho could not be certain but she respected his wish for anonymity nonetheless.

"Thank you as always," Cho said as she slid the bag into the pocket of her robe.  
"Did you tell them about your plan?" Draco asked quietly as drew his glass to take a swig.

"I did," she said, considering her words.

" _And_?"  
"And I would say they are reluctantly onboard," which was mostly the truth. By the end of the meeting she had been able to convince Neville and most of the older members but it had hardly been a unanimous decision on their part.

He nodded and drew a small envelope from his breast pocket. He handed it to her and even with a cursory glance she recognized the golden wax seal of the Malfoy crest. She quirked a brow and he replied to her unanswered question.

"I figured you would go ahead with matters regardless of whether they agreed so I took the liberty of getting you an invitation," he said with a shrug. He looked down at his pocket watch and they both knew they needed to get going. Their meetings never lasted very long out of necessity but as Draco stood to leave Cho caught him by the hand. 

"Thank you, again," Cho said.  
And even with the polyjuice, she could see the signature Malfoy smirk across the old man's lips. "Don't thank me yet. This is just the first step," he said and added. "Oh and Chang? For what it's worth you're braver than you look.."

Cho took that remark for what it was and inwardly told herself she was going to need all the bravery she could muster for what was to come.

*****

"Are you sure about this?" Draco said quietly as he extended his arm for her to take it.  
"Yes, now quit scowling at me like that. People are going to think we are fighting," she ordered in equal hush.

Cho had fashioned her long black hair in an intricate braided updo beaded with glistening white sapphires. Her gown was exquisitely stitched with matching gems threaded into the deep blue silk and the matching corset bodice, while uncomfortable, showed off her fit frame. The former Ravenclaw had been painstakingly thorough in her research of what to wear for one sole purpose. She knew it wasn't enough to look lovely.

She needed to steal the show.

To her credit Cho achieved her goal as every party guest turned to see who was coming down the entrance stairs aside Draco Malfoy. A soft murmur passed over the crowds as the gathered wizarding elite tried to quickly piece together Cho's story. With a knowing smirk Draco leaned in as if to cordially kiss her on the cheek: "Congratulations, Chang. All eyes are on you."

Cho wanted to pretend she wasn't even slightly unnerved by the attention but in fact a small part of her panicked like a swimmer suddenly finding herself surrounded by sharks. Even as she donned a polite smiling demeanor Cho had to quell the fight-or-flight instinct that was revving up beneath the surface.

She gave a quick curtsy to Draco before parting ways as she descended into the ballroom floor. It didn't take long for other guests to approach her, asking with immense curiosity as to who she was and how she knew the Malfoy family.

One of the main reasons why Cho had been the perfect candidate for this mission was that she didn't need a complicated backstory. She knew Draco from their school days, offering the perfect invitation for all the socialite parties. Her family, while originally from China, had been a part of the British wizarding society for nearly a hundred years. They didn't not have the same bottomless bank accounts as some of the other Sacred 28 but the Changs had enough wealth that they would never do without. Her parents still worked in the Ministry and had been careful not to stir any trouble with Umbridge's administration.

Altogether Cho was the total package of pureblood aristocracy.

"May I have this dance?"

She had read his dossier, committing the picture of him to memory and yet it couldn't compare to the actual person in front of her. Rabastan Lestrange had the features of a Greek statue with shoulder length hair as dark as the black ink of his eyes. He was living proof that evil wasn't always ugly. In fact, to her dismay, it sometimes carried itself behind a roguish smile and perfect skin.

"I don't believe we have met before because I am sure I would remember such a beautiful face," he said and clearly expected Cho to be charmed by his words. Inwardly she was repulsed but on the outside Cho feigned a bashful smile.

"My name is Cho Chang," she said sweetly. "And I already know who you are. Everyone knows of the famous war hero Rabastan Lestrange." 

That was the funny thing about winning a war. Whether good or evil it did not matter, the victors would always be the heroes while the losers became the villains. Ever since the fall of Hogwarts she had wondered what sort of stories might have been told if the light side had won. However Cho quickly shook herself from the line of thinking that was fit to give her many sleepless nights and instead chose to focus on the present dangers. 

"It is such a pleasure to meet you, Cho Chang," he replied and was clearly satisfied by her recognition as he lead her to the center of the dance floor. With a practiced measure she fell into step with the dark wizard's graceful movements.

"Tell me about yourself," Rabastan asked casually as they danced.  
"What would you like to know Mr. Lestrange," Cho said innocently but the crafted coy smile betrayed something mysterious that piqued Rabastan's interest.

"Well how did you find yourself at this stuffy gala in the first place and more importantly would you like to help me plot my escape." He said, matching her smile as they moved to the orchestra's music. 

She laughed and it was an effortless sound. From her notes Cho knew that Rabastan was accustomed to women being enamored with him and it was no wonder why. Good looks and charming disposition were an attractive combination.

But Cho knew better. She knew about his violence. About his crimes.

The blood of her friends was on his hands and it was all she could do from grabbing her wand and blasting him into oblivion in the middle of the dance floor. But instead she swallowed her rage. It wouldn't do any good to kill him yet when she had bigger targets in her sights.

As the song ended there was clear disappointment in Rabastan's face as another partygoer stepped in to ask Cho to dance. She was whisked away quickly but could feel the Death Eater's gaze on her even from across the room.

The festivities drew on for hours and by the time the clock struck midnight drunken guests were stumbling into the Floo Network before it closed for curfew. Cho had pretended to drink throughout the night and sobriety had given her the opportunity to gather a great deal of information from her inebriated new acquaintances. It was nothing groundbreaking but already she was beginning to piece together the tapestry of Voldemort's connections.

She was searching for Draco to say goodbye when a voice stopped her.  
"Will you be staying the night?"

Rabastan was leaning against a nearby pillar as guests filtered out of the ballroom. The crystal tumbler in his hand was half-full of firewhiskey. When she spun to see him she caught the glint of danger in his eyes. It was unnerving. But just as quickly it disappeared as he smiled warmly in her direction.

Cho felt a stir of panic in her chest as she was caught off guard but it quickly subsided as she forced a smile in return. "Oh no, Mr. Lestrange I mustn't."

"The Malfoy's have plenty of rooms available," taking a step forward until he was in her space. "I am sure no one would mind if you stayed... "

"But my father would," Cho replied firmly, the smile never faltering from her lips as she moved a step back. She knew just the words to use to strike back at any intentions the wizard had for the evening. After all, Cho needed to play her part and no young pureblood witch would let her virtue be called into question. "He's a bit of a traditionalist and it wouldn't be proper for me."

"A traditionalist you say?" He said with a smirk just as Draco appeared around the corridor, much to Cho's secret relief.

"There you are," Draco said to her and shot a glance at Rabastan who merely nodded in quiet greeting. "I came to see you off."

"It was a wonderful evening," Cho said to Rabastan with a curtsy. He took her by the hand, kissing it chastely.

"I look forward to seeing you again soon," he replied.

"I would like that very much," she said with a blush. 

Once alone Draco exhaled in mild frustration as they headed through the empty hallways to the private Floo. "You need to be careful Chang," he said, his voice was low even though the threat of being heard was unlikely.

"I _am,_ " she asserted.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that. He is a very dangerous and very clever wizard."

"I know what I am doing," she whispered fiercely and neither spoke for the remaining steps. 

As they turned the corner and arrived at the familiar green flames of the fireplace Cho turned to Draco and saw real concern in his steel blue eyes. She wasn't going to humor herself to believe he was entirely fearful for her as much as what could happen to himself and his family if she were caught.

"It will be alright," she said and placed a reassuring hand on his arm before stepping into the enchanted flames. "Good night Draco, I will see you soon."

"Good night Cho," he replied but only after she had already disappeared. 

Cho reappeared in her family's fireplace with a crack. She brushed the soot from her gown as she stepped off the hearth's steps. The Chang residence was completely silent as she immediately removed her slippers. After a long night of dancing across the ballroom, her throbbing feet thanked her for the reprieve.

Not much had changed in her family home since the years she had been away at Hogwarts. The detailed wallpaper still donned the old walls, family portraits of long dead ancestors lining the hallways. They looked at Cho with twisted lips of disapproval at her late arrival but said nothing in the hush of the night.

Cho rolled her eyes, _they're_ _dead but still managing to judge me from the grave_.

She paused before reaching the staircase and saw her father sleeping in his armchair. A book's still open pages revealed he had fallen asleep reading and likely waiting for his only daughter to come home.

Cho smiled and kissed his forehead, "Fùqīn, you need to get to bed."

The groggy older man raised his gaze and seeing that it was Cho who had woken him, smiled warmly. "Welcome home," he said softly before stumbling off to his room. Cho did the same, locking her bedroom door as she slipped into a silk slip. She took her wand and pointing it to her hair with a muttered spell, watched the evening's enchantment dispel her updo.

Out of habit she collapsed into bed with her wand under her pillow. When she closed her eyes to sleep Cho welcomed the oblivion.

Hours later when the late morning rays filtered into her room she could already hear the murmur of her parents moving around the house. Cho heard her mother call out from the kitchen; her voice had a tone of slight urgency that made the witch sit up quickly. She drew her robe and slipped her wand in her pocket before moving briskly down the stairs.

"Mŭqīn, what is it? Is everything alright?"

"Yes," her mother greeted and nodded to owl perched on their kitchenette windowsill. "Two letters came in, dear. One for your father and one for you."

Cho frowned faintly as she eyed the large owl. The stately bird stared back at her with yellow eyes the size of saucers. He ruffled his feathers in her direction, tapping an envelope with one sharp talon.

"Who are they from?" Cho asked as she plucked the envelope up.

"Mr. Rabastan Lestrange. He says he met you last night at the gala," her father answered as he squinted to read the fine words. Cho and her mother shared a look, both aware that the older man needed to wear glasses but refused to out of pride.  
"Lestrange? That's a Sacred 28 family," Mrs. Chang said, eagerness palpable in her tone.

"What else did he say?" Cho asked further, ignoring her mother's interjection.

"Hmm…"

Cho hastily opened her own letter:

 _Dear Miss Chang,_

 _I recall you saying your father was a traditionalist. As custom, I have asked him permission to see you again soon. I hope that would be agreeable with you as well. I enjoyed our time together._

 _Sincerely,_

 _R._

Cho swallowed hard, rereading the words several times. His tone of writing had an air of practiced formality that he didn't carry in their face-to-face interactions. Apparently he knew how to play the polite aristocrat too, invoking the custom of asking a witch's father for permission to get to know her. Courtship customs were alive and well in the pureblood circles and Cho knew all of them by heart.

 _So he is interested_ , Cho thought to herself and at once she felt both pleased that the first step of her plan was being set in place but also a sense of dread for the very same reason.

There was no turning back now.

"Does this mean our Cho has a suitor?" Mrs. Chang asked with anticipation when neither Cho nor her father spoke initially.

"Cho?" Mr. Chang inquired, looking up from the letter after he had read the message several times over. There was something in his tone of voice that wasn't the excitement her mother harbored but perhaps uncertainty. She understood the question he wanted to ask but thankfully did not: _What are you up to?_

"I don't think it's anything quite that serious Mŭqīn," Cho said with a fake smile.

"What do you wish for me to say to him? Do you want to see him again?"

"Yes, very much so fùqīn," Cho said and hoped her excitement sounded sincere.

There was a brief flicker of some unreadable emotion in her father's eyes before he nodded.

"Very well, I will let him know he has my blessing," Mr. Chang said. Cho smiled brightly but none could match the delight of her mother at the idea that her daughter had caught the attention of a wealthy pureblood wizard.


End file.
